


Crafty

by dogpoet



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-23
Updated: 2009-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock makes Jim a Christmas gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crafty

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Crafty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055612) by [curlybear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlybear/pseuds/curlybear), [dogpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet)



"Come," Jim called out when his door alerted him to a visitor. He looked up from his computer, where he'd been compiling the week's logs for transmission to Starfleet.

Spock entered, carrying a fuzzy blue bundle in his arms. "Good evening, Captain," he said, standing stiffly near the door.

"Hey, what's up?" Jim said, even though he knew Spock disliked the colloquialism. He could hear Spock thinking: _Nothing_ is _up_, Captain. But Spock either didn't think it this time, or forgot to say it aloud.

Spock held the bundle close to his chest. "I believe tomorrow is the day humans call Christmas. Based upon your participation in recent festivities, I gather that you celebrate the holiday."

Jim wondered what Spock was getting at. "Yeah, I guess I celebrate it. Not so much out here in space. Kind of hard to get your hands on a Christmas tree, if you know what I mean."

"I am familiar with the tradition. There are similar tree species on planets we have visited. Obtaining a suitable specimen is not beyond the realm of possibility." Spock gazed at Jim inquiringly.

Jim smiled, remembering his mom's obsessive Christmas tree decorating, and her insistence that Jim help her with ornaments and lights. "If I start that, I have to get menorahs and Andorian harps and before you know it, the whole mess hall will be crammed with everyone's holiday gear. If I want to be fair, anyway."

Spock bowed his head. "I understand the dilemma. But surely you could celebrate in the privacy of your own quarters without slighting anyone. I have read that Christmas is a time to gather with family and bestow gifts to show one's appreciation."

"Yeah, not everyone thinks of it that way, but that was one of the original intentions." Jim stood and approached his first officer, since Spock hadn't moved from his spot. "Do Vulcans...celebrate anything?" He eyed the bundle clutched to Spock's chest.

"We do not." Spock looked up at Jim. "At least not by custom. I find, however, that I am inclined to participate in human observances. I have brought you a gift."

Jim stopped in his tracks, both surprised and touched. It wasn't like Spock to indulge in behaviors that had no real utility. Gift-giving seemed like something that would fall into that category. Spock's ears looked a little green. He was embarrassed. Jim found himself wanting to kiss the flushed tips. "You got me a gift?"

"I made you a gift," Spock corrected. "All Vulcan children learn the practice of Ka'nanda, which is, I believe, similar to an earth craft called knitting." Spock fell quiet. He held out the bundle, not looking at Jim.

Jim wondered if biting Spock's ear would be an inappropriate response to receiving a gift. He restrained himself and instead took the proferred bundle. He held it up, letting the garment unfold. It was a sweater. A nubby blue sweater in a style Jim had sometimes seen Spock wear when he wasn't on duty.

"The color selection was rather limited. The trader did not have gold." Spock finally looked up at Jim.

"You knitted me a sweater?" Jim asked. No one had ever knitted him a sweater. Not even his mother.

The expression on Spock's face was blank, but Jim knew him well enough to see that he was concerned. Jim put the sweater on the desk and stripped off his uniform. He tossed the shirt on the floor and picked up the sweater, pulling it on over his black undershirt. It was a tight squeeze. Jim tugged harder, determined that the sweater would fit. It was unlike Spock to perform any task with inaccuracy, but Jim supposed that even Spock had flaws. Like thinking Jim was half the size he really was.

Satisfied that he had the sweater on as much as it _would_ get on, Jim grinned at Spock. He felt a little silly. "I love it," he said. And he did. Even if it was too small.

"I fear I have made it slightly too small for you," Spock commented, his eyes passing slowly over Jim's frame.

"Spock," Jim said, narrowing his eyes. "You never make mistakes." That might have been a smile on Spock's lips, but Jim couldn't tell. The sweater was softer and more malleable than it looked, and it clung to Jim's torso and his arms. "I think you did this on purpose."

Spock raised one eyebrow, but otherwise his face remained neutral. "I admit to thinking your uniforms are too big for you. I sized the sweater to be slightly smaller. Perhaps I overdid it." Spock continued to assess Jim's body under the sweater.

Jim stepped closer to Spock. "I don't have a present for you."

"I do not expect one in return. Vulcans have no Christmas tradition." Spock's ears had turned a bright shade of green.

Jim leaned close, clasping his hand around Spock's arm. He kissed the tip of Spock's ear. "Thank you," he said.

Spock didn't pull away as he sometimes did when others touched him. Jim could hear him breathing softly but quickly. Jim trailed his lips down Spock's jaw, then blindly kissed the corner of Spock's mouth before backing off. Spock was just looking at him, lips slightly open as if in shock.

"I --" Spock said.

"Are you sure there's nothing you want that I could get for you?" Jim offered. He was starting to think Spock was pretty crafty for a Vulcan. Crafty enough to knit sweaters way too small. On purpose, and knowing full well the consequences.

"I believe I have already received it," Spock said, gazing down at Jim's sweater-clad chest again.


End file.
